balmagowry

Well, DUH! And what does "Santa Cruz" mean...?

That's a good question... Where are all the the culinary anthropologists when you need one? On the case, sir! :salute: OK, here's what I got - so far. Google turns up a couple of sites which refer to cheesecake having been invented by the Greeks on the occasion of the first Olympic games in 776 BC. Based on the references I have handy I have not yet been able to substantiate this (but my home library is missing some key sources, so it may well be true). It does, however, appear that cheesecake was invented by the Greeks and subsequently adopted (along with many, many other Greek culinary customs) by the Romans. Andrew Dalby cites a reference in The Banquet of Philoxenus, around 400 BC, to a "cheesecake, made with millk and honey... baked like a pie" - he doesn't give the Greek from which he gets "cheesecake," but it is probably something on the order of plakous - or later placenta. He and Alexis Soyer both cite cheesecake recipes from Cato's De Re Rustica (2nd/3rd century BC), in one of which it is referred to as placenta, in the other as libum ("offering," frequently used generically to mean "cake"). No apparent etymological connection between the original Greco-Roman placenta and the modern anatomical meaning of that word, except perhaps that the early cheesecakes were sometimes more like flat pies, i.e. a cheese-based filling wrapped in a pastry envelope (hence, possibly, the modern medical term placenta implying a wrapping, which - damn, can't find that reference any more - I believe dates from the 17th century). Dalby's references are a little confusing: in connection with cheesecake he mentions a Greek recipe for plakous as being from "Antiphanes quoted by Athenaeus," but it is not clear where or whether he has actually quoted or adapted that particular recipe. He does give three recipe adaptations, apparently all from Cato, one of them for a savory cheesecake. All of them call for combining soft cheese with flour(!) and egg and bay leaf (!), and the sweet ones also add honey; still and all, it is unmistakably a proto-cheesecake! (Hmmm - thread convergence or at least interest convergence, for me anyway - this suggests that the Greco-Roman placenta would be the forerunner of the raised-pie "coffin." Wow. Further investigation is called for.)

Not mine. I love all of your dinner companions. Not wild about Bobby Flay, though. Ditto on both counts. Have to admit I can do without rare duck, though. But I don't think it qualifies as Hell... not when there are so many worse things to consider.

JELL-O. EDIT to add: Dining companion: Dr. Michael Jacobsen, of the Center for Science in the Public Interest. EDIT AGAIN to add: the only problem with the Favorite Meal Forever school of thought is that you might actually enjoy the first few iterations. There's a case to be made for the disappointment that follows being lulled into a false sense of security... but this is Hell, after all, so shouldn't the suffering begin at once?

Ah, but isn't that the whole point? One man's meat....

Welcome, Smithy! Maggie, dahlink, I'm almost hopelessly muddled at this point as to which ones I have and haven't logged, but I believe I have another seven to report. Mostly more boozy stuff from the aftermath of the bitters impulse, but also a couple of fascinating tangents: Plants of Life, Plants of Death by Frederick Simoons (same guy who writ Eat Not This Flesh - how could I not have known about this book before?!?!), also Curtin and Heldke's Cooking, Eating, Thinking (which sounds awfully close to "read, chew, discuss," if you ask me) - plus Gillian Riley's A Feast for the Eyes (which I shall have to re-order because it wasn't available, but I promise I will, partly for the pleasure of it and partly to see whether or not it makes my lurking idea of "Pies in Art" redundant). Oh, and give me joy: Soyer's A Culinary Campaign (logged when I ordered it) is just come to hand.

That's a good question... Where are all the the culinary anthropologists when you need one? On the case, sir! :salute:

Ain't it the truth. Thread convergence - just saw an article about Elias Corner (recently discussed on the Greek Restaurants in Astoria thread), to the effect that they have twice been shut down for minimum wage violations: apparently their staff was getting paid nothing but a share of the tip jar (or rather, tip bucket).

FG - this doesn't quite meet all the criteria for your dream timer, but it comes closer than the Polder in several respects. I've never seen it before, and I'm seriously tempted by it: Acurite Timer

Thanks for the link! Did you notice this, at the end of the rundown of yogurts? Thicker but slightly grainy. Hmmmmm. Your theorieas are certainly plausible, especially as regards additional bacteria (l. acidophilus foremost among them). But - if that is the case, then why doesn't the same thing happen in store-bought yogurt that features the same live cultures? If the same yogurt that I'm using for starter (Dannon, in both this case and the previous) doesn't behave that way itself, then it's hard for me to understand how its bacteria could be causing the phenomenon. And I'm not happy to have my comforting milk-skin theory shot down. Well, IAC, I'm going back to whole millk with today's batch - will also hit the local health-food store to see what kind of exciting choices they have by way of starter yogurts. I know it's unscientific to vary so many factors at once, but this isn't just science, it's breakfast - and I'm having fun. Meanwhile, another vague query. I was toying with the idea of trying the powdered-milk thing. Mind you, I love the yogurt I've been making without it, but I thought it might be interesting to try a batch that way so I could compare them. So off I goes, the other day, and buys some powdered milk; only to come back and look more closely at the recipes that call for it, and find that they all say "non-instant." And of course what I got is instant, because it's the only thing they had at the market. So - is non-instant powdered milk about to become the next hard-to-find ingredient? What is the difference between instant and non? Where does one find non?

A clue! Finished the second quart yesterday, and found it even more "grainy" at bottom than the first - "grainy" being an inaccurate way of describing what were really tiny bits of firmer curd. Anyway, scraping the bottom, I began coming up with a few larger bits of - well, at first I thought they were soggy paper, but of course they were made of curd and were edible, and it suddenly hit me: I bet the cooling milk formed a skin, and I bet I forgot to take it off before whisking in the starter. I'm starting fresh today, so will prove the pudding a few days hence; but I'm betting, and hoping, that this is the answer.

Anyone who calls himself that is almost certain not to be and is inviting de-bunking. (I remember the previous owner of this house telling me "... and I'm a gourmet chef." I didn't even need to look around at the insane way he had the kitchen set up, just thought to myself, "if you were really a 'gourmet chef,' whatever you think that is, what you would have said is '... and I cook.'") Yes, there's vanity there, but there's also terrible arrogance. No matter how good you may be or may think you are, you can't say something like that without simply dismissing history and your predecessors. That, to me, is the most offensive thing I can think of. He might be the little brother of modern Italian cuisine, but no way is he its progenitor. No matter how innovative he may be he is still standing on the shoulders of dozens of other, better-known and more modest people. So in that sense it can never be a tenable claim. That said, or rather ranted... I have no idea whether he's any good. But he's done an absolutely stellar job of predisposing me to assume otherwise.

Ooooh - that one hits close to home. I can count myself lucky that in my case it was only (only!) 15 years. Although, to be fair, taste in food wasn't really his arena - but he more than made up for that by his self-imposed dishwashing and kitchen-cleaning martyrdom. Definitely had a lot to do with "trying to control me in a way he knew would hurt." (Not just trying, either.) Another nasty kitchen tactic: he didn't have any particular aptitude for cooking, but every once in a while he would persuade me to teach him how to make something he particularly liked; from then on he would become terribly offended if I made it myself because in his view it was now "his." Cooking as a mechanism for personal control. Creepy. I keep having these troubling little flashes of my main man Careme calling cuisine "the spearhead of French diplomacy," but of course then I remember that's a whole different gig. That's not control, it's geopolitical influence, in which all's fair.

I always figured they ended up as cat food. "Chicken by-products," don't you know. My parents always loved the gizzard but not the heart - go figure. I love gizzards too, but I figured being guaranteed the heart was not a bad trade-off, when eating with them - especially since I'm the only one who likes the lungs. And my mother and I always scrupulously shared the pope's nose. Chicken livers are easy to come by here, in 1-lb tubs, but none of the other offal. Go figure. Once in a blue moon a package of hearts and/or gizzards will turn up at my local supermarket for no discernible reason, and that's when I make merry. Asian grocers - will have to try that. Thanks, Ling. BTW, Bleachboy, since you're new at this - you probably don't want to cook the liver the same way as the heart and gizzard; it's more delicate and can be more easily ruined by overcooking. I like to sautee it in plenty of butter, very hot, so it gets brown on the outside, even a little crispy at the edges, but stays pink inside. Mmmmmmm... and then I do reprehensible things with the butter that's left in the pan....

Those Gralab ones are darkroom timers - or at least, they look just like 'em down to the Gralab name. Only mine is black with white (phosphorescent) hands & numbers. BTW I have the Polder and I really love it - though I admit I wouldn't mind if it were a bit bigger. I don't always use its necklace-ness, but there are times when it comes in very handy - any time I'm setting something for long enough that I might walk away and forget it. (Before I had the Polder I did this with laundry all the time, set it to wash, got distracted and left it to moulder for... days, sometimes.) Most of all, though, I'm now spoiled by the numeric keypad; I now think it an affront and a dreadful hardship to have to set 45 minutes with one button. Hmph. What if I miss and have to start all over again? The horror!

I shall now sin in several ways. I shall commit the sin of digression, by picking up on a semi-OT tangent and running with it; I shall compound that with the sin of redundancy, by doing so without first hunting down previous threads that have already covered the subject; worse yet, I shall commit the sin of irrelevance, by taking the tangent farther afield than it has yet reached. Or maybe not, because ultimately we may really be talking about the same thing: good-will and generosity of spirit are central to this thread, after all. Anyway, mags's post about hospitality has struck a chord near to my heart, so I hope I can be forgiven for a few remarks on that subject. Yes, there are "zillions" of models for the relationship between a guest and a host; many of them are very interesting and quite a few of them are workable, but in real life there is only one that I give a fig about. I think the ideal consists of an informal mutual courtesy in which each party defers to the other, but not to the point of making the other uncomfortable. The onus is slightly greater on the host, but the guest's role is perhaps a little more difficult. The host's job is to set the guest entirely at ease and to accommodate the guest's needs and preferences to the degree possible; the guest's, to accept such treatment graciously and to know (when applicable) where to draw the line between offering to help and getting in the way. There's no magic formula for getting it right - the dynamic has to be negotiated anew in every host/guest juxtaposition - but mutual and equal good will, accompanied by a certain flexibility, are really all it takes, I think. I do buy into the notion that "the host's job... is to make the guest as happy as possible"; but if the host is doing that job then the guest bears an equal responsibility to be as happy as possible! Also, making one's guest happy should not be at all incompatible with making oneself happy. If I make dinner for someone, how much am I motivated by a desire to please that person, how much by a desire to show off something I'm proud of? Don't know exactly, but I think it's probably roughly 50/50, and I think that's as it should be. As MFKF has said (and I've seen it cited in at least two sigs around here), the sharing of a meal is a pretty intimate business. If it isn't an act of genuine friendship (or doesn't convincingly simulate one), there's little point in it. (Yes, I know, business lunches; occasions of state; but they're not exempt - greater formality, and less sincerity in the good will, is all.) I can't pretend to have read St. Augustine (one of these days...); this passage and its rough translation come to me courtesy of Robertson Davies, whom I love. It's a good model for conducting a friendship, a tutorial, a love affair, a marriage; and - except for the reading of books, which would of course be rude at table - it's not a bad model for the contractual relationship between host and guest. Here's another - Henry Tilney in Northanger Abbey: End of that digression. I shall now go forth and sin no more. (And if you believe that, can I interest you in a nice little suspension bridge...?)

Best of all, perhaps, is one of those vacuum-sealer things - mine is a Tilia Foodsaver - though it could get to be a lot of work if you're storing individual-pot batches - lately I've been compromising when I get pre-ground, storing it in sealed 1/2 lb bags. But I have a question - what about storing the beans? I buy mine in 3-lb (well, they used to be 3-lb - now they're 36-oz) bags. I used to just take out enough for a pot, then re-ziploc the bag and put it back in the freezer. But if that's not good enough for ground, I bet it's not good enough for the bean either. Suggestions? Again, I don't think I have the patience to Tilia-seal individual-pot batches (might do it once or twice, but I know I'd run out of momentum and enthusiasm by the third time) - but short of that, does it make sense to do 1/2-lb bags of beans? or does it matter less with the bean? is ziploc good enough? the problem with the Tilia thing, of course, is that it doesn't re-seal unless you run it through the machine again... which I could do, come to think of it, since there'll be less in it.

Could be. It's one of the ingredients in Fee's Peach Bitters, and I'm pretty sure I remember doc mentioning it in the context of one of the orange bitters (bitterses??) in his collection. Not sure why you'd want the extra - what? viscosity? water retention? - in bitters, but there it is.

WHAT??? Where are they, the Philistines? Don't they know smart, daring and self-deprecating when they see it? Lemme at 'em and I'll whump 'em for you!

NYC tap water is some of the best in the world - and of course by definition the ultimate for bagel-making. I can see where it might have been impractical to import it to Beijing; but a few years back I remember reading about someone doing exactly that in Denver. I think it was a homesick NYC expat - opened his own bagelry and sold New York bagels made with real New York water, and made a lot of other NYC expats very happy. (Also introduced Denverites to the Genuine Article, spoiling them for any lesser form.) My oldest friend from grade school is half-French and lives in the south of France, and every August she comes back to NY wanting ONE THING - a real bagel.

The mind reels... Think of the names you could come up with for various varieties. Ok, I can't resist... Brhee-haw. Sheesh, whatsamatter with all you people? Ain't you never took a bath in asses' milk? Guess not. Never mind. EDIT: but getting back to the names... this could give a whole new meaning to "crottin"!!!

you should have seen what a sweet and benevolent ape that was before i photoshopped its eyes. now it looks more like the nasty cannibal chimps can often be. not that says anything about me of course--i'm sweet and benevolent. 'Course you are. Um... yeah... gee... such a shame I had to cancel out of that Denver gathering.... :shudder:

Not entirely!! I know it's tough, but please bear with us ignorant folk. If we fail to extrapolate the idea from your translation, that's our loss - but it's a much greater loss if we don't have the translation to extrapolate from! I've done my share of translating, so I sympathize - I'll never forget trying to translate a really dumb joke into French for the benefit of a Swiss woman who was the only person at table not roaring with laughter - an effort that failed utterly because the premise was based on idiom and accent in a way that simply has no French counterpart... oh dear. Nevertheless, it was possible to get the idea across so that if she didn't exactly join in the hysteria at least she didn't feel completely left out. Besides, it's good practice for you. When this nouveau bollywood flick plays in the US, someone's going to have to subtitle it! (Love the new avatar, BTW.)

It won't be me! I used to have a probe, but no more. Actually, though, I'm pretty happy with the incubation temperature, based on results. I do want to use the cooling bath, though. Oh! forgot to mention that I'd also seen a lot of emphasis on pre-warming the containers and the starter yogurt. Wonder how much that actually matters. Getting back to the cooling stage, though, it comes back to me now that that was another difference between the two batches - in each case I'd poured the milk off into a bowl to cool, but second time around I used a taller, deeper one, and the cooling took a good bit longer - 10-15 minutes more. Sounds like that may be important. Meanwhile, I've just been and gone and read those reports and sort of more or less understood some of 'em. I was especially interested in the grittiness thing, and I do think it's sort of relevant even though the conditions for cheese spread are obviously different. The upshot seemed to be that the gritty particles formed when the milk hadn't been heated enough, or for long enough. And the report did say that a lot of what they did with cheese had been learned from working with yogurt. On the face of it, this is certainly yet another argument in favor of bringing the milk to the boil - maybe it means I should try the boil-2-minutes method. I guess it's worth a shot. I'm not too worried about sterilizing. I'm not sure, though, that I did more than a cursory hand-washing this last time around; I was in a hurry. Hmmmmm. Oh - one other dichotomy, though not apparently relevant to the present question - the one between whisking the mixture thoroughly and stirring it gently for fear that too much exposure to air will damage the bacteria. Doesn't seem to have done so in my case, but I wonder where they get these ideas....

Huh - how odd. You are remembering to put on that last extra coat of polyurethane the way the food stylists do - aren't you?